


Control Test

by Creed Cascade (creedcascade)



Series: Telepathic!Jim Verse [3]
Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Academy Era, Alternate Universe, Angst, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Starfleet Academy, Telekinesis, Telepathic Sex, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-06
Updated: 2011-11-06
Packaged: 2017-10-25 18:55:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/273623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creedcascade/pseuds/Creed%20Cascade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone makes the mistake of testing the telepathic bond Jim established with Bones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Control Test

As McCoy felt the hypospray unexpectedly press into the base of his neck, he immediately thought of Jim. It would be ironic payback for the many hyposprays McCoy had subjected him to in an effort to control his allergies, treat injuries sustained from his stupid behaviour, and unruly ego. The bite of the hypospray meant that someone gave a damn. Not just anyone, but Bones. It was McCoy’s way of caring for Jim and marking him. Jim liked to mark him with hickies and McCoy had accepted he was psychically marked as well. In the safety of the dark, Jim whispered that Bones would always belong to him. It was scary and thrilling. The connection they shared was more permanent than the wedding ring that once rested on McCoy’s finger. The security of that permanence was the true vow. No matter the crazy shit either of them pulled, they would always be tied together.

As McCoy felt the darkness wash over him, he knew Jim would appreciate the irony. He tried to calculate what drug had been forced into him based on the quick onset and side effects of numb fingers. But, the darkness was too quick. The only thing McCoy was certain about was that Jim wasn’t responsible. For all of his grumblings about hyposprays, Jim would never retaliate with a cruel twist like this. Jim wasn’t going to be happy about this and McCoy didn’t feel sorry for his assailant in the least.

+++

Jim knew what her first name was. Nyota. Even if he hadn’t been able to pick it up mentally the first time they met, then it would have been simple as sin to hack into her cadet file. That wasn’t the point. It was a game they both enjoyed playing, even though Uhura would always claim otherwise. He teased and flirted. She responded with verbal jibes, rolled her eyes, and generally played at exasperation.

Uhura was beautiful, capable, intelligent, and independent. She was everything Jim wanted in a woman and he intended to get her. Even though it was veiled in sexual innuendoes, their interactions were about something completely different. Jim was grooming her for his future command team. If she had given into his flirtations, then he wouldn’t have wanted her. He knew McCoy would never put up with a woman on Jim’s command team he had slept with. Even with everything she had to offer, she could never be what McCoy was to Jim.

“C’mon, Uhura,” Jim wheedled and gifted her with a large grin. “I could use the help studying. You want to help me… study?”

Uhura rolled her eyes with a long, drawn out sigh. “You don’t need help… studying. Especially from me.”

Jim leaned down on the desk, his weight supported on his elbows. “Oh, but I do.”

“If we continue to use your oh-so charming euphemism of studying, then you’ve studied successfully throughout the ranks of female cadets.” Uhura flicked a few buttons on the monitoring station. “If we dropped the bullshit and talked about pure academia, then you still wouldn’t need help studying.”

“But, I’m only a deluded gold-shirt taking a second year course on sociolinguistics that I have no reason to be in.”

Jim was quoting the instructor of the course Uhura and Jim were taking. She wasn’t exactly pleased that Jim had been granted permission to take her course without passing the prerequisites first. She didn’t appreciate that Pike was allowing Jim to pursue the “sink or swim” method of education at the Academy. As far as Pike was concerned, Jim could take whatever courses he wanted, but it was up to him alone to pass them. Pike wouldn’t be there to clean up his mess, but then again, that hadn’t been needed. Whatever Jim took, he’d been successful at it. Jim would still have to do the mandatory four years of courses, but he would do it in three years and he would graduate with top marks in the hardest courses offered.

He was at the top of his command class and scored just as well in any of the engineering courses he took. He wasn’t the top student in all of his electives, but more often than not, that was about his “a little bit of everything” approach. Even a genius couldn’t be the best at absolutely everything, but Jim still always scored in the top five percent. He was a specialist and a generalist all rolled up into one blue-eyed bundle of too much energy and ambition. Proving something to the brass was one benefit, but the other was getting to see first hand the selection of his classmates. Uhura was at the top of his list, but there were others. There was a cute little Russian genius he had his eye on. By the time Jim planned to be a Captain, the kid would be a little more seasoned and old enough to be his navigator.

“She thinks I’m just there to hit on you…”

Uhura jotted down a few quick notes on her datapad using her stylus. “Maybe that’s because you keep hitting on me each and every class?”

Jim loved that she was able to multi-task and concentrate on her job, but still maintain a conversation with him. It was one of the reasons he wanted her on his future crew.

Jim chuckled softly. “Guilty as charged. The first assignment is coming up and I’ll be lost without your… tutelage.”

“Oh, please.” Uhura scribbled some more notes on her datapad. “We both know you’ll ace the test. You’re just posing as ignorant. I saw your work on sociolects.”

Jim shrugged as she saw through his bullshit. “It’ll be a nice little surprise for her. And, another will be that I wrote it in Vulcan.”

Uhura’s hand hovered over a switch, but a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “You didn’t.”

“I did.” Jim strummed his fingertips on the monitor top. “In an obscure Golic dialect of a regional clan that died out two hundred and thirty-seven years ago.”

Uhura barked out a low, unladylike laugh. “She might fail you on principle.”

“She can try. The project is done and done correctly. Will she really want to admit a dumb gold-shirt cadet got the better of her?”

“Probably not. Have you settled on your major yet?”

“Mmm, nope.” Jim predicted her next move and pushed a button for her. “I’ve applied to the Dean for special consideration. Technically, I’ll have enough credits to graduate with a triple major in Com/Ops, Tactical, and Security with a double minor in Helm/Nav and Engineering.”

“I always wondered why you didn’t pursue Intel.”

Jim sprawled over the top of the monitor and reached for another button, but his hand was swatted away by Uhura and he smirked secretively. “I have my reasons.”

Uhura’s eyebrow rose in question, but she decided to leave it. She had learned that it was best not to go diving into Jim Kirk’s reasoning too much. “I heard about the little experiment you built to combo test out of ‘Deflectors, Weapons and Security Systems’ and ‘Diplomacy: Non-Traditional Situations’.”

“Yeah, that was cool. I bet you never thought that the stun setting on a phaser could be used to…” Jim stopped and clutched at the side of his head. A low mixture of groan and growl escaped his mouth.

“Kirk?” Uhura could tell by the pained expression that he wasn’t faking.

Jim stumbled to his feet and he blinked exactly once, erasing the blank look from his face in an instant. Uhura watched as he bolted out of the room faster than she had ever seen him run. Jim looked like he was going to kill someone.

Her fingers were already typing out the code to contact Spock, but she stopped herself. She trusted Spock, but he wasn’t the one who could reign Kirk in. She punched in the code of the one person who could and waited for them to pick up. As the comm kept buzzing, Uhura’s started to feel sick, sensing that things were far worse than any prank. She used the command directory to look up Captain Pike.

“Pike, here.”

Uhura tried her best to keep the panic from her voice. “Captain, we have a big problem.”

“Who is this?”

“Cadet Uhura, sir. Cadet Kirk is on the warpath.”

“Cadet, I don’t want to hear it. Kirk is responsible for his own messes and if he makes a mistake, then he’ll learn to live with it.”

“Sir, I couldn’t reach Doctor McCoy on his medical line.” Everyone knew that McCoy was a dedicated Doctor and the unofficial keeper of the unruly Kirk. Despite his grumpiness, he had quickly become the favourite for patching up minor wounds amongst the other cadets and he always answered pages on his medical line. “Whatever this is… it involves him.”

There a momentary pause, followed by a heaved sigh. “You did the right thing by contacting me.”

“Is there anything I can do?” Uhura wanted to chase Jim down even though there wasn’t a chance of catching him unless he wanted to caught.

“No,” Pike’s tone was firm. “Cadet Uhura, let me handle this.”

+++

Jim was in a different mindset. The first rule of the hunt was tracking and tracing. Where was the target? Find it. Pinpoint the location. Assess the risk and determine a plan of entry. Detainment or recovery?

This was definitely a case of recovery. McCoy had been taken from him. His telepathic ability was in overdrive, searching for McCoy’s signature. Wherever Jim was on the campus or city, McCoy was always there on the edges of his consciousness. The man projected like he was yelling through a bullhorn. It was comforting.

The steady stream of irritation and the thought processes as McCoy’s treated patients was the static that filtered out the noise of the masses for Jim. He was Jim’s constant and anchoring point. The insults and thoughts he picked up randomly throughout the day made Jim smile. Thoughts of McCoy’s daughter… his gentleness when treating children and vulnerable patients… his impatience with incompetence… but, most reassuring of all was the thoughts he had of Jim.

He worried about Jim. There was a steady undercurrent of mundane to dirty thoughts. McCoy worried about whether Jim had remembered to do laundry, right up to thinking about his lips and other body parts in dirty ways. As he ate a hurried lunch on the ward or between classes, he worried if Jim had eaten and wondered if the meal had contaminated in the kitchen by wheat, nuts, or shellfish. Usually seconds after Jim picked up the thoughts from McCoy, he would have the doctor nagging him over the comm system. When he was in a boring class, he thought about thumping the nauseating instructor, but escaped with thoughts of making love to Jim. To get through the long days, McCoy thought about curling up with Jim in their shared bed or simply hanging out. McCoy was the first lover in Jim’s life who genuinely enjoyed spending time with him. He was a pessimist whose internal commentary entertained Jim to no end. His mind was an open book and there were no ulterior motives.

All of a sudden, the presence of McCoy in his mind had been dimmed. It had never been like this before. Even when McCoy was sleeping, his mind was still active and his dreams intriguing. Each night, even if it was briefly, he always dreamed about Jim. At this moment, the silence was unnatural. McCoy was alive, but muted. It was driving Jim crazy.

Jim had to delve deeper into the connection that had been forged the first day they met. He pushed down the first impulse to frantically find McCoy. Being clumsy would endanger McCoy. A cold and calculating instinct settled over him as he sought out his mate. The first stop had been a secret stash for weapons. After that, the bond directed him to where he needed to go.

Stealth. Focus. Hunt. Recovery.

It led him to a residential area of Eureka. Jim commandeered a transport in ways that would at least look legal. The only reason he took step to cover his tracks was a voice in his head that sounded like Bones, nagging at him not to endanger everything they had worked for, “Stupid kid, be careful.” Bones said it all the time. Maybe that really was him and not Jim’s imagination.

The buildings were filled with civilians. Jim scanned those in the nearest vicinity. No one knew anything about McCoy. The worst they were covering up was a stain on the carpet or an affair with the dog walker. Collateral damage was not acceptable. Bones would never forgive him when he got him back. Not if, when. When? Soon.

The alarm on the building was a joke. He narrowed down his focus.

Fourth floor, southwest corner. Apartment 4J.

No visible cameras in the hallway, but three hidden monitoring devices were detected and neutralized. The door was secure with a top-of-the-line, supposedly tamper proof lock. It was coded to the specific DNA of one person. Jim had no way of knowing who that could be. It also produced a low level shield in front of the door and flowing out into the interior wall. Even if he blew through the wall, the shield would still be there. The lock stood between him and Bones. Unacceptable.

Jim wasn’t sure how he knew to do it, or even how he did, but he stared at the lock. This was new and difficult, but needed… necessary. He could feel parts moving and being manipulated on the inside. Jim sneered when he heard a click-click-fizzle as the components malfunctioned. The shield dropped. Concentrating until a small trickle of blood escaped his nose, Jim only stopped once the DNA sequencer was overridden.

The door flung open without Jim touching it and he proceeded carefully into the room. There was no one else in the room besides McCoy who was laid out on a couch along the wall of the main room. Jim took a quick inventory. No booby traps. McCoy was unconscious and also blindfolded, gagged, and restrained. Viscerally, Jim reacted by thinking that Bones hated the dark. He wanted nothing more at the moment to hear McCoy’s lengthy rants on the evils of things that lurked in the dark. Lying on a table in front of the couch was a hypospray and communicator with a note beside it that simply read, CONTACT ME.

Jim ignored the note and moved to the couch. Pulling out a blade strapped to his thigh, he cut away the restraints, gag, and blindfold. The problem was that McCoy wasn’t waking up.

Jim patted his cheek and begged, “C’mon, Bones. I’m here.”

He pushed with his telepathic ability, revolted to feel the unnatural calmness of McCoy’s mind. Still cradling McCoy carefully, he reached over to grab the non-descript communicator.

Pressing down with more force than necessarily, he snapped, “What do you want?”

“I got what I wanted.” It was Pike’s voice. Jim was sure of that and the betrayal stung. “You’re here.”

“He won’t wake up.”

“Give him the hypo,” Pike instructed. “It’ll wake him up. There’re no side effects. I promise.”

“You don’t have my trust,” he said, but still reached for the hypospray. The only other choice was carrying McCoy out unconscious and that would raise too many questions.

“This was a test that I didn’t want to give you, Kirk, but it had to be done. I had to know how whatever you two share would affect you in the field. YOU had to know. You had to be pushed in a safe control test.”

Jim ignored Pike, kissing McCoy’s brow and ran his finger’s through his lover’s hair. “You had no right.”

“Would you rather have endangered him?” Pike sounded determined, but tired. “He’s your Achilles' heel. Now you know you can find and protect him.”

“I already knew that.”

“When are we going to address the unforeseen development of telekinesis?”

“Shut up.” Jim pressed his lips against McCoy’s brow again. He held McCoy tight and tried to administer the hyprosray with care. “I’m sorry.”

The effect was instantaneous. He felt McCoy’s mind shuffling into overdrive and awareness pulling him out of the haze. Jim wrapped himself mentally and physically around his best friend. “Bones…”

McCoy’s eyelids fluttered and he croaked, “J-Jim?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s me.” Jim laughed and kissed him.

The first cognisant thought of McCoy concerned Jim’s safety. “Y-You okay, kid?”

“I’m fine.” Jim was delighted to feel the overwhelming and familiar mind fretting over him.

McCoy was trying to assess the situation and struggled to sit up. Jim helped him sit up, but still clung to him. “What happened?”

“Pike happened.”

“Fucking asshole,” McCoy groaned. He was already checking over Jim because the kid said he was fine. When Jim was supposedly fine, he was usually far from it. He wiped away the dried blood from under Jim’s nose, already calculating the tests he was going to subject Jim to.

“I can hear you, Cadet McCoy,” Pike told him over the communicator.

McCoy rubbed the back of his head. “Good! It’s Doctor McCoy to you, Captain Fuckin’ Asshole.”

McCoy grabbed the communicator and crunched it under his boot. Turning back to Jim, he grabbed him, fingers framing his face and pulling him into a searing kiss. The kiss was full of reassurance, possessiveness, and promise. Jim fisted his hands into McCoy’s wrinkled scrubs, holding him close and running through McCoy’s mind to calm himself. He reinforced the telltale mental markers that Bones was HIS.

“I’m sorry, Bones,” Jim repeated. “I should’ve…”

“Shut up, darlin’,” McCoy cut him off. For maximum impact, he soothed the hurt with the one endearment he used so rarely with Jim. “We’re good. I’m yours ‘n’ you belong to me.”

“Yeah…”

“Pike suggested something about this once…” He felt Jim tense in his arms and he made shushing noises. “I said no. I wouldn’t agree to it and wouldn’t even consider it. I wouldn’t do that to us. Remember, you found me.”

Pike had reasoned it would be for their own good. That Jim was an unknown and that was never good. He tried to convince McCoy that it would be good for his golden boy in the long run, even if it caused momentary pain. McCoy had told Pike to fuck off.

Jim settled his head on McCoy’s shoulder, nuzzling against his neck and started to gently bite the tender skin. “I had to.”

“This’ll be one of the few times that I’m going to let you run amuck, so you might as well get that scarily beautiful brain of yours scheming on how we’re going to get back at Pike without getting expelled…”

“I’m on it,” Jim promised.

He wanted to get out of here, but his mind was tumbling, whirling, and still working in overdrive. His body was still pulsing with adrenaline, instinctively wanting… wanting… wanting…

McCoy shivered when he felt the brush of ghost touches where Jim’s hands were no where near. “Ah, kid… is there something you want to tell me?”

Jim opened his mind and shared all that he wanted. He wanted to kiss, lick and worship every inch of Bones’ body. He want to feel McCoy in the inside… mind and body. Jim’s overactive imagination shuffled through ever sexual position they had ever tried and some that McCoy’s mind protested probably were impossible for human anatomy. It felt like days of unending love making and their bodies reacted accordingly to the shared perfection. They clung to one another and their mingled moans filled the room.

“You made me come in my pants,” McCoy grumbled.

“You’re not the only one.”

“Let’s get outta here.” As McCoy stumbled to his feet, with Jim helping him up, he felt Jim molest his ass. That was interesting considering Jim’s hands were nowhere near his ass. He groaned thinking of all the trouble the kid would cause with this new ability and he had a suspicion he was going to be on the receiving end of a lot it.

“You’re okay with it?” Jim’s tone was hopeful and insecure. He was always surprised that McCoy could love him and worried that someday, he would realize he was involved with a freak.

Instead of rejection, Jim sensed the wave of keen interest and acceptance.

“Being with you is never boring.” McCoy managed to make the bitching sound like a sweet compliment. “You’re stuck with me, kid.”

END.


End file.
